Jack was good at stealth. Possibly not as good as he was at blowing things up but still considered an expert at slipping away in and out of shadows when the need arose for it. When he realized that he didn't want to be one of the men staring slack-jawed, stunned and more than slightly aroused as the woman he loved danced in the firelight he took advantage of the distraction to quietly leave the table and find a dark secluded hiding place.
Seven years of Gate travel, seven years of being in each other's lives on an almost constant basis and who knew that Sam could do that?
Certainly he had not.
She had told him that she'd started a new workout routine with Jillian and Annie that involved dancing. But Jack had been flashing back to the aerobics craze of the 80s – something jerky and cardio that involved a lot of jumping around.
Not something that looked like vertical sex.
Not what Sam was currently doing, shining in the firelight, laughing, sometimes with her head thrown back in delicious abandon.
Considering that Jack had been more than slightly aroused just from the native garb Sam had chosen to wear, now he was starting to suffer in earnest. In fact, considering the length of the dinner he was fast approaching the point where the TV commercials recommended seeking medical attention.
He should have felt guilty for watching her from the shadow of the grove of palm trees and heavy ferns at the edge of the dance space. He didn't spy on his own team, for gods' sake. He didn't spy on her. He had long suspected there were too many others who did spy on SG1 but he wasn't one of them. But at the moment, and for her own good, he couldn't be caught staring at her openly so this was the best he could do under the circumstances.
There was an advantage to being part of a recognized couple. Jack understood this. None of the men danced too close to Jillian or Annie – or god forbid too close to Ishta. He wasn't sure what Scott Lawrence would do if someone bothered Annie. Daniel would be all over the man who got too close to Jillian and it would look like a snake strike, no warning. Teal'c well, honestly Teal'c would probably just stand and smile while Ishta took care of the problem on her own.
But there was an undeclared open season on Sam apparently. He couldn't eviscerate some poor local just for looking at her or dancing too close in much too suggestive ways. But Jack was quickly reaching the point where he just couldn't stand this anymore. His hand was shaking so hard he couldn't finish his beer, which just sucked.
He was close to being paralyzed in a state of agonizing arousal just watching her fire-drenched body moving to the drums; torn between not wanting to ever stop watching her and marching our on the dance floor, taking her hand and dragging her off into some private shadowed place with him. If he had to stand here in this state of indecision for much longer he was going to just fucking lose it.…
Duty honor responsibility sacrifice good of the planet good of the program…..
Fuck that, he was dying here and they had already crossed the line anyway and he was going to DC in a month so who knew how many times they would have to be together before that.
Jack stood up straight and drained the last of the ale of the mug in his hand. They had walked each other safely from one side of a battlefield to another. Getting from one side of dance floor to another shouldn't be a problem. Decision made he walked out of the shadows, dropped the mug on the first serving tray he came to and began weaving in and out of the dancers.
He didn't exactly grab her hand. In fact he didn't touch her at all. Sam turned before he had quite reached her, always aware of him and where he was. She didn't turn all the way, just enough to look at him over her shoulder. It was devastating. She had to know that particular view of her was his favorite. With that much skin showing and her hips moving in an ancient rhythm it was his undoing.
Jack leaned in close to her ear, though he kept his body back from hers, maintaining a civilized distance.
"Come with me," he said.
He walked towards her with his back to most of the torches so now it was cast in shadow. His eyes were always unfathomable in the dark. His tone was not. It was sultry, the intent unmistakable. In the fire lit half of her face that he could see, there was a brief narrowing of her eyes and brow, the momentary reaction of resistance to being ordered around outside of the battlefield. So he added, "Please."
She turned to look at him fully and now her eyes were unwavering, her head tilted a little, thrown back just a little as if she would still defy him just for a moment. But he could see the pulse beating rapidly in her throat. Her lips were parted. Her eyes were almost black in the flickering darkness.
Jack turned around and began to walk away, knowing she would follow him. He made for the same shadowed shelter of palms and ferns that he had just left, waited until she was safely hidden from view along with him and then caught her in his arms. He nudged her face up to meet his with his cheek and then covered her mouth, claiming it. One hand strayed down her back, caressing the length of her spine until he stopped just below the band wrapped around her hips. It fisted a tight handful of grass skirt over the smooth curves of her bottom and pushed her up against him.
Sam's mouth came alive under his, hungry, seeking. She offered her tongue on a gasp and low moan and Jack accepted it on a hot wet slide of his own. They gasped and groaned and sucked and pressed deep. He let Sam go for a moment, rested his forehead on hers and panted. Then he took a breath as if he was going underwater before he pushed her mouth open again, before she was done catching her breath, twisting his head, pressing their lips together, His tongue sliding in and out, up and back and down in a long, rolling frantic kiss. Sam's kiss, conversely, softened, until it was pliable, yielding, accepting, until she was his.
"Carter," Jack gasped, thick and wet, pulling back, trying to swallow and kiss and breathe and talk all at once. "Carter ... fuck ... jeezus, fuck."
Sam smiled a little. He only called her 'Carter' in that voice was he was out of his mind with desire; and then it sounded just like 'baby', 'honey', 'sweetheart' - different than the way he said it in any other context. He was holding her so tightly she couldn't have gotten away from him without causing them both serious damage. She should have felt trapped. Instead she felt wanted and protected.
"I thought that was the idea," she said, on a throaty growl.
"It is," he said, "But not like this, not up against a tree on the edge of a public party. Not like that."
She moved to get up on tiptoe and he let go enough to allow the movement. She nipped at his jaw, sucked the vulnerable skin below it. It was very gentle, nothing that would leave a mark but it went straight to his throbbing groin. He bent a little and lifted his chin, giving her better access. She sucked a little lower, worked her way to the points of his collar bone and the hollow in between.
"Then let's go back to my room; or yours. I don't care. Just don't climb over the balcony again. You just about gave me a heart attack last time."
Jack's eyes were closed. Sam rolled her hips against him. The touch, even through heavy cloth and thick skirt, was electric.
"Stop," he groaned, "Christ, Sam, if you do that again I'm going to go off in my shorts. Do you have any idea how long it's been since I've done that?"
"Can it be calculated in decades?" she asked. "Give me a hint and I can do the math in my head."
"At least one of us can still think," he said, seeking her mouth again. The kiss was less frantic this time.
"I can think of quite of few things I'd like to be doing to you, preferably in a bed. Things like this, only lower," she sucked a little harder on his throat.
"Shut up," Jack moaned piteously. "God help me, Sam, I'm so turned on I can't breathe."
She wriggled and he let her go.
"Come on. We can walk back together. No one will even notice."
Jack shook his head. "Someone will notice."
"Wow," she said, "You can take the guy out of Special Forces….."
"Who says?" he interrupted.
She smiled, a little wickedly. Then she took his hand and drew him out of the shadows, letting go of his hand as they came back into the light. They walked side by side towards the main lobby of their building.
"Daniel and Jillian left a while ago," Jack told her, "I saw them leave."
"I doubt they're hanging out in the common room having coffee," Sam observed.
Jack grunted. "Lawrence and Annie left just before I came to get you."
"They probably went back to Prometheus."
Jack nodded. She was right.
The ride in the elevator was torture. The few feet that separated them felt continental.
The common room was mercifully empty. Jack turned, swept her with a long appreciative look.
"You are the hottest thing I've ever seen in my life in that outfit. You know that right?"
"Just in this outfit?" She asked, a little mischievously.
He laughed and then hauled her into his arms, knocking the breath out of her. "Come here," he growled.
He kissed her and untied the knot in the middle of her back, pulled away the fabric. Sam made a small choked sound and then her hands were scrambling to drag his shirt of his waistband. She stopped, suspended for a moment when he slipped a hand between them and found her breast. Squeezed, fondled, teased, rubbed, circled. He drank in her moans, the shiver that trembled down her spine.
God, how he wanted her. He wanted to get in her so deep and make her come so hard that she forgot there had ever been anyone else and all she could think about was him. He wanted her. He wanted to mark her, make her his and his alone. He wanted to own her.
He had to let go of her so she could get his shirt over his head. It hit the floor somewhere beside the bright fuchsia strip of fabric she had just been wearing. Blind with lust the touch of her naked body to his chest nearly sent Jack over the edge. He reached down and swept up his shirt and her top from the floor and then started backing her towards the doors on the other side of the room.
"Bedroom," he said.
Clinging, touching, kissing they found his door first. Jack reached around behind her and hit the control to open it. It slid silently open, they tumbled inside and Jack sealed it behind them. Loincloth and skirt hit the floor at the same time. Briefs and panties followed. Jack spun her across the room until they hit the bed and fell across it in a tangle of hands and arms and legs and seeking lips. Then Jack went to work in earnest, licking and mouthing, engulfing and sucking, stroking, petting, caressing until Sam's hands were clawing the sheets Jack's name had turned into a blur of gasps and she was more turned on than she had been in days, wet and swollen.
Breathing on her, gentle movements of his tongue his fingers stroking the inside of her thigh…
With a low helpless groan, Sam put her foot against his shoulder and pushed him back, reaching down to grasp his arm and pull him up, trying to slide under him at the same time. Her whole body welcomed him as he thrust inside in one hard movement, until he was groin-deep and thick and holding her tight. She buried her face in his neck, let out a sudden sharp sob and started to climax.
"Yeah," Jack breathed in a low satisfied growl. His strokes got longer, smoother and deeper. His body controlled hers, riding the waves. Sam clung to him helplessly and let Jack have her. It was involuntary. Orgasm melted her, merged her into Jack until they were one. Jack surged into it, fiercely, taking her - taking charge of what belonged to him, exulting in it, knowing how hard it would make her come, knowing that this was how to make her come. Taking possession of her made her wild so he did it on purpose because he loved her and she was his.
Mercurial ecstasy rose up in him, surged through every muscle in his body. The outside world dissolved into nothing as his dark eyes slid closed. They were shaking apart inside and around each other. Sam was crying out over and over in a kind of shock, hands gripping his arms, legs locked around his hips. She lifted up and drove him deeper and Jack shot, hard and fierce and with animal immediacy deep in in the silken embrace of her body.
Soldered to her, molten heat, flesh to flesh, heart to heart…
He didn't quite collapse on top of her, managing somehow to slide sideways and land with his arm over her, their legs still tangled. He could feel her breathing in slow, deep gasps, gusting soft against his neck. He lifted his head and found her forcing her eyes open to look up at him and smile.
They kissed, rubbed noses and foreheads and cheeks, smiled again. Jack laughed softly.
They spent the next hour toying with each other, feasting on each other's arousal and subsequent climaxes, sometimes laughing like teenagers, sometimes groaning like the damned until they were wrung dry and exhausted.
Sprawled across Jack like a casualty of war Sam murmured, "My god, Jack, did you take something before bringing me up here?"
Ruffling his fingers through her disheveled, sweat-drenched hair Jack snorted. "Yeah. I took one look at you oiled, half-naked and dancing. Are you trying to kill me, doing something like that?"
Her smile was slightly wicked again but she snuggled back down with her head in the hollow of his shoulders and her fingers trailing up and down the damp valley of his chest.
"I want to stay here tonight," she said. Her voice had gotten sleepy. Post-orgasm endorphins were now coasting through both of them like the tide.
It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her he wasn't letting her climb over the balcony railings but then thought she might consider it a dare so he bit that back as fast as his thoughts had conjured it.
It was quite late at night. If she left to walk into the common room and go the short distance to her room no one would notice.
But he didn't want her to go.
"Consequences," he slurred, softly.
"Screw them," she sighed.
"So stay," he murmured, shifting into a slightly more comfortable position, arranging one pillow so they could share it.
"'Kay," she said, snuggling down.
Jack managed a soft kiss on her forehead and to hold back sleep until the rhythm of her breathing and the sweet weight of her body told him she was asleep.
In the morning, there would be daylight and other people. But right now there was nothing but the night and the two of them and so for a little while the world was a beautiful and perfect place.
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